I have always wondered about the origin of the seemingly illogical term “flying off the handle” indicating absurd anger. Actually, I have never thought about this, but it is at the very least a tenuous transition into the subject of this blog post, in which I detail my experience flying off the boot shaped peninsula of Italy to Sicily, the soccer ball the Italian boot seems to be kicking. In a way, I sort of jumped onto the trip to…
A Tour Guide in Italy March here in Bologna has been a month of visitors and midterms, which both have presented an opportunity for me to pretend I know more than I do, albeit to two very different audiences. The first audience consisted of my girlfriend visiting during the first half of Vassar’s spring break and my mother and brother, who arrived a few days ago. The other, of course, included my professors, hoping for verbose and accurate explanations of…
More Freedom in Italy My second month in Italy has been an effective loosening of the leash on the part of the program directors. Perhaps that is a bad metaphor, because the program trips on the first weekend to see mosaics and towers are not a limiting or controlling experience in the slightest. What I mean to say is that our tours around Bologna and nearby cities were similar to taking a dog for a spin around the suburbs, and…
Just to preface this, I have not composed anything in English outside of messaging apps or Snapchat captions in almost a month, so if my phrasing seems a little out of whack, it’s not my fault that I’m worldly. It is my fault that I seem to only have the capacity to master prepositions in one language total. I noticed this because along with my now moderate capacity at getting Italian prepositions right, I also have said things to the…